


Grantaire's first times

by Airuna



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Activism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Grantaire life, Grantaire&Jehan brOTP, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Pining, rants about greek mithology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airuna/pseuds/Airuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire life told thank his first times. No sexy times I can't write porn so not that first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grantaire's first times

The first time Grantaire was hated was the day he was born. His mother died during the birth and his father and grandparents made their goal to remember this to him in every opportunity that them had.

* * *

The first time Grantaire received a compliment was when he was five. He returned home with a drawing for his father and smiled like it was Christmas when he nodded with approval. The smile fell when he saw his father burning the drawing. 

“It was good” was all he said while drinking from a bottle of wine. Grantaire kept drawing but he never show any of his art to the man again.

* * *

The first time Grantaire drunk was when he was eight, his father put a vodka bottle in his hand and told him “Be a man and drink it all”. He ended in the hospital but what really hurt him was his father saying.

“A real man knows how to hold their alcohol”. He started training so he won’t put his father down the next time.

* * *

The first time Grantaire ran away from home he was ten and he had just been beaten really badly by his father when he returned home, drunk as always, and saw Grantaire painting. He arrived to his grandparents’ home running as fast as he could.

“Please, let me stay” he begged. His grandparents stared at the bruises and injuries that the boy had.

“Try to not be too much of a bother” answered his grandfather, his grandmother frowned but didn’t say anything so Grantaire stayed.

* * *

The first time Grantaire was called _R_  he was eleven. It was his first day to the new school which his grandparents had chosen. He saw three big guys threading a little ginger.

“What’re you doing” he shouted.

“None of your business” answered one of them.

“They are trying to cure me from my fairyness and don’t listen me when I say that in fact I’m pansexual” explained the ginger with a sweet smile.

“Go away” said other of the guys. “

No” answered Grantaire adopting a boxing position. “Let him alone” ordered causing the older boys to laugh.

“He needs to learn about respect” commented the third closing his hand.

The little ginger was faster and kicked the boy between his legs, the boy screamed and fell to the floor in his knees.

“You hurt him, I hurt you” threaded with scaring calm, he looked transformed and a dangerous grin had appeared in his lips.

“I know how to defend myself” protested Grantaire while the three guys were going to class sayings things like it was too late and that they will give them a lection after school.

“I don’t doubt that but you came to help me, it was just fair that I help you” answered the other boy.

“I’m Jean Prouvaire, by the way, but call me Jehan” he said putting a flower into his hair.

“Grantaire, call me however you like” answered him.

“Ok, R, let’s be friends” decided Jehan. The nickname caused Grantaire laugh.

“Clever” and then he became serious again “You are going to regret it, I’m not good material for friend” explained.

“Let me judge that” Jehan said smiling again.

* * *

The first time Grantaire was comforted he was fourteen. It was summer and he was reading in Jehan’s library.

“Why do you always wear that hoodie, aren’t you hot?” asked the little poet.

“Very” answered Grantaire with a “sexy” grin, Jehan rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean” he said with and adorable blush.

“You aren’t exactly the person to talk about clothes preferences” Jehan was wearing a purple t-shirt and floral trousers.

“What you don’t want me to know?” asked the poet suspicious at his friend’s defensive tone.

“Nothing” Grantaire hidding his hand under the table. Jehan had a horrible thought.

“Show me your wrist please” asked the little poet with his better puppy eyes so Grantaire did.

“Self-harm” confirmed Jehan with endless sadness when he saw them. “I’m sorry” said Grantaire trying to not look to his face.

“I’m the one who is sorry” corrected the ginger “I should have known” Grantaire could take angry but not guilty.

“You didn’t, it’s my fault, it’s always my fault” he said starting crying.

“Shhh, everything is ok, my friend, it’s fine” comforted Jehan. “Wanna talk about that?” Grantaire shacked his head.

“No, it’s nothing” he sobbed. “It’s just, you know, it feels right. I don’t deserve my blood anyway, father always said that”. Jehan frowned.

“Your father is an idiot” commented. Grantaire ignored him.

“When the blood goes away, his voices and my grandparents go too, they stop talking to me, saying how of a disappointment I am. And it feels right for a second” explained while Jehan was hugging him.

“It’s not right, sweetheart, and they are not right don’t let they get to you” the poet said and took a pen. “Let me, please” he said and he wrote on the scars You’re loved, you’re perfect. “Think in me when you are going to cut yourself. And remember that I care about you, my friend”.

It wasn’t a miraculous solution and Grantaire didn’t stop self-harming the day after that but they keep repeating that writing ritual. A year and a half later Grantaire cut himself for the last time. Sadly Jehan had become really fond to write on people by then.

* * *

The first time Grantaire decided something had eighteen years. His grandparents told him that if he studied Art history he didn’t bother to come back so he packed his things and moved to Paris with Jehan without looking back.

* * *

The first time Grantaire broke a nose he was twenty-one and boxing in a gym in Paris. It was an accident and he was really concerned, especially after heard that the injured man was a soon-to-be-lawyer. But the other man just laugh and said:

“That was a killing punch, man, teach me how to do it and I’ll buy you a beer” Grantaire returned the smile.

“Sure, man, I never say no to a beer. I’m R” the man laugh.

“Interesting name, I’m Bahorel and that loser is Feuilly” a ginger man who was smoking next to them punched him in the arm.

“I don’t recommend you to go with that motherfuker you could caught some of his idioticity” Grantaire went anyway.

* * *

The first time Grantaire get matched in a drink competition was the first time he agreed to go to drink with Feuilly and Bahorel. In that bar, The Corinto, was a woman black-haired and with a sensual smile. She dared him to a drink competition. They were in the second vodka bottle when the bartender, worried about their health, decided to stop giving them alcohol.

“You really give a fuck about stereotypes, girl”. She smiled.

“My name is Azelma and I’m eighteen so I’m not a girl anymore” Grantaire laugh.

“Where did you learn to hold your alcohol like that?” asked curious.

“Let’s just say that sad family stories are not for the first date” She answered with a wink. Bahorel and Feuilly arrived with another man.

“Wow, that was quite impressive” said Bahorel looking at both with wild eyes.

“I’ve seen you before?” asked Feuilly looking to Azelma.

“You really need to improve your pick-up lines, dude” smiled the new man “And you do not try to hit on Zelly, her sister is scaring and she would turn you and me into eunuchs if something happen” He added

“I can take care of myself Courfeyrac” Azelma punch him. Feuilly had no doubt

“You’re Eponine’s sister?” asked with a smile. “You remember me to her a lot”

“Yeah, and you are the one who works with her in the Musain, right?” asked the girl “I’m sorry for your boss” she added “’Ponine was very depressed”. Grantaire saw like the eyes of the others filled with sadness

“Lamarque was a great man” sighed Feully. “He was a fair boss and from what I heart from that idiot” he punched Bahorel in the arm “a great teacher”.

“He must be, Enj was about to cry when he heart about his dead and he is the one who usually makes teachers cry” added Courfeyrac.

“You know Enjolras?” Bahorel was impressed. “This guy is like a legend in the law department of my university, he goes two classes below me and I’ve heard about him” explained to Grantaire.

“And he only goes to one class every trimester” explained Feuilly making them laugh.

“Are you interested in politics?” asked Courfeyrac looking at them with hope.

“Oh god no, spam about your pretty group again, no” begged Azelma.

“Shut up, ‘Ponine likes our group” said Courfeyrac. “Eponine likes Marius, her taste is very questionable” Courfeyrac only could laugh.

“Well if you like politics you are welcome tomorrow to the Musain at seven o’clock” he invited them ignoring Azelma who was rolling his eyes.

“My Musain?” asked Feuilly frowning a bit.

“He is a bit of a possessive asshole with that place, what he wants to say is the same Musain where I work” traduced Bahorel.

“Are you two dating?” asked Grantaire raising an eyebrow.

.“Fuck no, what the hell” Feuilly and Bahorel realized that they were like really close so they jump to put distance between them. “Yeah that Musain, Ponine said it wouldn’t be a problem to have the meeting there” answered Azelma neglecting the interruption.

“Zelly, we have to go, before Gavroche does something and ‘Ponine kill us to let him home with only Marius to look after him” commented Courfeyrac looking at the clock. “I thought that we had left Gavroche looking after the puppy so he doesn’t start “pontmercying” too much” answered Azelma but she standed anyway. “See you tomorrow guys” said before following Courfeyrac.

“When did we agree to go?” asked Grantaire asked surprised to the other two.

“It could be fun” Feuilly smiled.

* * *

The first time Grantaire fell in love was also the first time he went to an activist meeting. Bahorel had dragged him there after the boxing training so he was wearing sport pants and his inseparable green hoodie, his hair was even more of a mess than usually. He said hi to Feuilly who was cleaning some tables and then he saw him. His first thought was that he was dead and in heaven and was seeing and angel. But then he remembered himself that his chances to enter to heaven were limited and that he didn’t even believe in the existence of heaven. Feuilly hit him gentle in the arm and he realized that he was staring was his mouth open.

“He is Enjolras” informed him while the angel was starting the meeting. “He is… wow” commented R still without taking his eyes away from him Feuilly give him a pity look but didn’t comment anything.

And then he started speaking. Grantaire was wrong he wasn’t and angel, he was a god, a Greek god, with the shine, the charisma and that passion… that passion! Grantaire was pining like a teenager and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He kept on with deciding which god was him. Not Eros, he was beautiful but in a pure way in a cast way not in a sexy and sensual way (despite that the way his red jacket fitted him was criminal). Not Ares, his passion and fury were clear but under control, it was not a volcanic eruption, it was more powerful and didn’t have collateral damage. No, he was Apollo. The god of the sun that shines in his golden hair. But also the god of music who was spelling everyone in the room with his words. Grantaire didn’t agree with anything he was saying but his voice was so convincing and warm than he was sure that he would follow that man to the hell. And his eyes were cold and in fire at the same time. Grantaire wanted him to look at him, he needed it.

“That’s bullshit” dammed it wasn’t the smartest thing to say. Everyone turned to look at him including the god. The silence was sepulchral and awkward and he felt the need to break it. “Cruel things incorporate in the culture don’t disappear. For example: slavery. Slavery just changed his name. They call them slaves at the beginning, serf later, slave again, proletariat after and today they don’t name it they just say “cheap hand working” in other countries and because we don’t mention it, we don’t feel guilty about it.” Enjolras was looking at him with interest.

“Well that’s another reason to do something about international business that use slaves, make disappear local commerce and…” he was interrupted by Grantaire.

“It’s pointless, it was almost impossible do something about companies with endless power when they operate in one country, but now they are all over the world.” Enjolras really didn’t like be interrupted.

“So you thing it’s better don’t even try?” asked skeptical.

“Well, what you do with your time is not my concern so if you want to waste it that’s on you. Just don’t put too much hope in this” was the answer. Enjolras was going to reply but some other voice rang.

“I’m sorry, I’m late, guys” Jehan arrived “R?” asked incredulous.

“Jehan, those are yours naïve idiots?” asked with a smile, Enjolras made an indignated sound.

“They are not naïve idiots” protested Jehan.

“I’ve been here less than five minutes and I can already tell that they are naïve hiper-idealistics idiots” Grantaire said “But they are cute and seems nice” added with a smile.

“You know our little poet?” asked Courfeyrac with a bit of jealousy.

“Since we were eleven and he is my little poet” answered Grantaire with protectiveness.

“We’ve been best friends since we met” explained Jehan quickly when he saw Courf face.

“We were doing a meeting” protested Enjolras.

“Sorry Apollo” Grantaire said without realize it. When he did he a red shadow invaded his cheeks.

“Apollo? You are into classics?” asked a boy with glasses with interest.

“Combeferre!” Enjolras exclaimed with betrayed tone.

“He is the one who let me get depressed over dead Greek warriors and destroyed my life with his recommendations about books” explained Jehan with resentment.

“Song of Achilles is a great book” answered R with a smile.

“Song of Achilles?” asked Combeferre with interest.

“You must read it if you like the Iliad and Patruclus & Achilles” said R.

“You can have my copy” smiled Jehan giving him a book.

“Ok, enough interruption for a day” said Enjolras. Combeferre shout him an apologizing glance. And the meeting continued.

* * *

The first time Grantaire made a friend while having ice-cream and beer all over him and being in the floor was in that same meeting and entirely Bossuet’s fault. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry” he apologized “I didn’t do that in porpuse I swear. I’m just have really, really bad luck” he explained. 

“I can corroborate that” say an other man kissing the unlucky guy in the cheek “He is Bossuet, I’m Joly and you should remove that ice-cream of you before you catch and hypothermia” added deadly serious. 

“Hypothermia?” asked Grantaire trying to not laugh. 

“He is a medic student and a bit of and hypochondriac.” explained a girl that was cleaning a close table. 

“Azelma’ss siste?” asked Grantiare with a smile. 

“Yeah, I’m Éponine” said her “She will probably his you something to help you wash your shirt if you asked her” she offered so Grantaire went to the bar. 

“Hi, there” he smiled to the girl. 

“You didn’t tell me you were a cynic” she accused with joy “Enjolras was about to explode every time you opened your mouth. And I though that it was impossible for the meetings to be interesting, I am no going to miss a single one from now” declared delighted. 

“Who says that I’m going to return?” asked Grantaire with a smirk. 

“Your eyes every time you look at Enjolras” answered the girl provoking Grantaire to blush deeply. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about” refused him. 

“Sure you don’t” laughed Azelma. 

“Nice place, who runs it?” Grantaire changed the topic quickly. 

“Lamarque used to but he died and left it to Feully, my sister and that girl over there: Musichetta” explained the girl pointing a girl who was sitting in Bossuet lap “with the condition that they will let les Amis to do their meetings here.” 

“They are pretty young to runs a place like this, I’m impressed” he said “That Musichetta is dating Bossuet? I thought that he was with the hypochondriac one”    

“Yeah, you were right. The three of them are together, don’t ask me how that work but they are” explained the girl. 

“Weird but if they are fine with it who am I to say anything” said Grantaire. “I should go home and change my clothes, I suppose I’ll see you around” he said. 

“Indeed we will” answered Azelma with a smirk and looking on porpuse in Enjolras direction“The meetings are every Wednesday and Friday, by the way” she shout before Grantaire was out.


End file.
